


Regrets, and Other Broken Things

by intotheblue



Category: Kingsman
Genre: Angst, Fake Marriage, Graphic ish description there of, Hopefully enough angst, I Tried, Idiots in Love, Jealous!Harry, M/M, Mission Fic, Mutual Pining, Post TSS, TGC Non-Compliant, Torture, both of them being sad, maybe they'll get their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheblue/pseuds/intotheblue
Summary: Coming back from the dead is rarely uncomplicated.





	Regrets, and Other Broken Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



The ballroom was opulent; there was no other word for it. Windows stretched from floor to vaulted ceiling, framed by heavy purple drapes drawn back with rich golden rope. Artfully hung chandeliers dripped in magnificent crystals that caught and diffused the light, bathing the entire affair in a warm glow. The marble floor shone, upstaged only by the perfectly polished shoes that danced across it.

All in all, Eggsy was awed, and more than a little uncomfortable. Unfortunately, neither of those emotions had anything to do with his surroundings.

"It’s all a tad excessive, isn’t it?" Harry remarked, fingers alighting on Eggsy’s elbow.

Eggsy swallowed and nodded.

Next to him, Harry Hart stood tall and elegant. He cut a striking figure, dressed as he was in Kingsman’s finest. His tuxedo was of a classic cut, with a midnight blue jacket and black trousers. He wore it like a second skin, more at ease than Eggsy supposed he’d ever feel in one.

In a word, he was beautiful.

Far more so than any of hundreds of other guests, each trying to outdo the next with gaudy accessories and even gaudier personalities.

"Still," Harry continued, "not such a bad venue for my first foray back into the field."

And that was the crux of it. Harry Hart was dead. Or rather, he had been, up until just a few months before, when he came swanning back into Eggsy’s life, all of their lives, as if he’d never been gone. It would have been comical, had it not felt a knife twisting in his gut.

God, but Eggsy had missed Harry. Everything he’d accomplished had seemed hollow, knowing that his mentor would never be there to see any of it, to feel pride at having shaped who Eggsy’d become. But it was far more than that. He missed the easy camaraderie they’d so quickly formed in the small amount of time they’d spent together during Eggsy’s training. And he’d so bitterly regretted the words they’d parted with.

Still regretted them, actually.

What he would’ve given to bring Harry back. And now he was, and Eggsy should have been happy. But it was complicated. Far more complicated than he ever could have predicted.

"Shall we, darling?" Harry murmured, extending his arm.

"’Course," Eggsy replied, slipping a hand through the offered elbow.

Harry smiled at him, warm and familiar and dreadfully painful. Eggsy pasted on a matching expression, and it only felt a little like ripping out his own heart.

The two spies made their way onto the dance floor, joining the rippling sea of dancing couples. The music floated delicately across the room, slow and sweet, perfect for the kind of intimate moment found only between the pages of romance novels. Harry took one of Eggsy’s hand in his own and rested the other on the younger agent’s waist.

"Might I have this dance?" he asked belatedly, a sparkle in his eye, as he began to lead the both of them through a complicated series of steps.

Eggsy couldn’t help the genuine smile that broke through, if only for a moment.

"You may," he answered, unnecessarily, purposefully slipping into his recently perfected posh accent.

A warm chuckle slid from Harry’s lips.

 _The mark is on your two, Tristan_ , came Merlin’s voice, from his glasses.

Harry expertly twirled them, bringing Isaac Hargrave into Eggsy’s direct line of sight.

"Got ‘im."

 _You know what to do_ , Merlin confirmed.

"Ready to put on a show, dearest?"

Eggsy winked. "I thought you’d never ask."

 

It wasn’t long before they’d gained the mark’s attention. Eggsy was unsurprised, if a tad disappointed. He liked a challenge, and, well, that Hargrave was not. All it took was a particularly ostentatious dip, paired with Eggsy raking his eyes appreciatively up his target’s body to gain his interest. It seemed the intel hadn’t understated that man’s taste for much younger, taken men.

"Why don’t you get us some drinks, Henry, love," Eggsy said, allowing his eyes to slip distractedly back to Hargrave.

"Of course, dear boy," Harry replied.

It was only a great deal of self control that prevented Eggsy from stiffening visibly at the endearment. So far, they’d stayed in the safe territory of words Harry had never before called him. Those, however… he hadn’t heard them since V-Day, but he certainly had before then. He swallowed thickly, the schooled his features into the seductive look he knew would have the mark eating out of the palm of his hand in no time at all. He caught Hargraves’ eye and cocked his eyebrow in a clear invitation.

The man hastened over, with none of grace of one more self assured. He clutched a tumbler of amber alcohol in one hand and slipped the other in his pocket, aiming for (and completely missing) casual.

Eggsy smirked, just this side of heated. "May I?" he asked, gesturing at the man’s drink. "I’m absolutely parched," he continued, dropping his voice into a gravelly timber. Without waiting for an answer, he plucked the man’s drink out of his hand and took a slow sip. Hargrove’s eyes very noticeably followed the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Eggsy grinned and tapped his cover’s wedding ring rather conspicuously against the glass. "Delicious," he drawled.

"If you like that, I’ve an even better vintage upstairs," Hargrave said quickly.

Eggsy's eyebrows shot up marginally. The man certainly didn’t beat around the bush, that was for sure. Still, he’d rather his mark be a little less sober and a little more tired before they absconded from the gala.

"That sounds lovely, Mr. …?" Eggsy trailed off, voice laced with expectation.

"Ah, Hargrave, Isaac Hargrave, that is."

_Target confirmed._

Eggsy placed the drink back in the other man’s hand. "A pleasure, Mr. Hargrave."

"And you are...?"

Eggsy smirked. " _Very_ interested in your proposal, Isaac. Allow me some time to see my husband distracted, and I’ll rejoin you. Alright?"

Hargrave swallowed heavily. "Quite so," he practically squeaked.

"Wonderful." Eggsy spun around and, after tossing one more smile over his shoulder, returned to Harry’s side.

"Who was that you were speaking to, dear?" Harry asked. _Have you acquired the mark?_

"Nothing you need worry about, Henry," Eggsy replied with a small smile. _Target successfully approached. Anticipate no difficulties._

"Well, then, Edward, shall we mingle?" _Acknowledged_.

Eggsy cocked an eyebrow and once again took Harry’s proffered elbow.

Hargrave was their primary target, but there were plenty of people worth establishing their cover with here tonight. The two agents drifted from conversation to conversation, making introductions and connections, feeling out the other guests for potential criminal leanings. The information on Hargrave’s hard drive should be enough to determine who was and wasn’t here with nefarious intent, but it never hurt to be thorough.

After an hour, Eggsy and Harry drifted back together, near the hors d’oeuvre table.

"It seems your target is getting antsy," Harry remarked, refraining from gesturing in the man’s direction.

"Let ‘im squirm a bit longer, yeah?" Eggsy said, taking a sip of the drink he’d recently acquired.

Harry smiled indulgently and leaned against a nearby pillar.

Fuck, but he was gorgeous. He was gorgeous, and maddeningly perfect, and Eggsy was so fucking glad he was alive, but he was also angry, and hurt.

Harry’d waltzed back into his life with barely an explanation. It had been more than a year since his supposed death, and he was _fine_.

 

_"Eggsy, wait!" Roxy called after him, but it was far to late. Eggsy was flat out running now, desperate to see if it was true, if Harry–_

_The door to the dining room came into view and Eggsy skidded to a stop. He bit back a sob. Harry was dead, and no matter how many nights he’d spent wishing otherwise, that wasn’t going to change._

_Except the door swung open, and behind it stood Harry Hart._

_His left eye was obscured by a pair of half-darkened Kingsman issued glasses, out from which stretched a spider web of scars. His lips pressed together to form a thin, troubled line. When his good eye landed on Eggsy, his expression quickly morphed to surprise, only to be schooled into something more neutral._

_Eggsy was dreaming, he was fucking dreaming. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Harry Hart was not alive, he wasn’t standing before him, Lazarus in the flesh. Still, he couldn’t stop his lips from forming his dead mentor’s name, his lungs from whispering out the breath that gave it substance and sound._

_"Harry?"_

_He didn’t dare believe it._

 

"Are you quite alright?" Harry asked, ghosting his fingers down Eggsy’s arm, suddenly standing far closer than Eggsy’d remembered.

Eggsy swallowed. "Yeah, yeah, m’fine."

Suddenly, Harry’s expression shifted.

" _Shit_. Please forgive me, Eggsy," he said.

The younger agent had barely a moment to ponder the break in cover before Harry’s lips covered his own, warm and insistent.

Harry kissed him, and the floor fell from beneath his feet.

 

It was a bad idea, Harry knew. He’d known it when he slipped the wedding band on Eggsy’s finger, far more reverently than he’d any right to, and he knew it now. But just like with the ring, knowing he’d never have the chance to do so again, he kissed Eggsy. Eggsy, not Edward.

He had an excuse, of course. He’d spotted an old mark, someone who knew his name wasn’t Henry and who might still hold a grudge. There were many other ways, of course, to avoid detection, but none held the appeal of cradling Eggsy’s head in his hands and pressing his lips against the younger man’s.

Eggsy stiffened immediately. Harry stroked a hand down his arm, trying to calm him. The change was like flipping a light switch. Eggsy’s hands fisted in Harry’s lapels, pulling him closer. He nipped lightly at Harry’s bottom lip, teasing his mouth open so he could deepen the kiss.

Harry was all too eager to oblige him, giving as good as he got. His tongue slid hot against Eggys’s, sparking a flame of desire that curled deep in the pit of his stomach.

 _Shit_ , he shouldn’t be doing this. Eggsy trusted him, clearly, was responding as his cover would to avoid suspicion, trusted Harry to have a good reason for subjecting him to this. And Harry was taking advantage of that trust. A barely suppressed shiver of disgust ran down his spine. Harry broke the kiss.

Eggsy swallowed hard and let go of Harry’s jacket. He smoothed down the fabric, not quite returning the lapels to their formerly pristine state. "Why did we do that?" he asked, tone carefully neutral.

Harry fought to control his breathing. "A previous target– I suspect he might recognize me, should he get a good enough look."

Eggsy's shoulders slumped in relief, and Harry felt his heart break, just a little more.

 

Harry looked as unflappable as ever, and Eggsy felt all of fight leave him. It was for the mission. Of _course_ it was for the mission, how could it have ever been anything else?

"So it was a distraction," Eggsy said dully. "S’good idea." He fought the urge to touch his lips, or to scream.

Harry nodded. "I’m sorry for putting you in that position without first consulting you."

Eggsy pasted a fake smirk on his face and held up his left hand. "We’re married, yeah? Was bound to happen one way or another." He winked for good measure, hoping desperately that Harry couldn’t see how _not_ _okay_ he was.

Eggsy let his eyes wander, unwilling to look back at Harry and see only professional detachment. For a moment, he locked eyes with an unfamiliar man wearing an odd expression. All thoughts of that, however, fled when he saw the mark staring openly at him. Eggsy cursed under his breath.

"I’ve got to –" Eggsy gestured subtly towards Hargrave.

"Of course." He doubted Harry could’ve sounded less concerned if he tried.

"Right." Eggsy squared his shoulders and schooled his features into what he hoped was the same easily charming expression as before.

 

It was not going well. Eggsy felt stilted and awkward, and no matter how he tried to focus on the task at hand, his thoughts kept wandering back to Harry’s lips, pressed against his. And it was clear Hargrave knew it. He maintained a façade of polite interest, but his body was angled away from Eggsy, and there was a crease between his brows that hadn’t been there before.

 _Fucking hell_ , he needed the information that would be in Hargrave’s room, and at this rate, he wasn’t going to get it. Merlin would never let him hear the end of this.

Eggsy drew a lingering hand down Hargrave’s arm. He angled his head down and looked up at the man through his lashes.

"Isaac," he said, playing with the mark’s fingers, "I’ve grown rather bored of this party, haven’t you."

Hargrave looked back towards him, a renewed spark of interest in his eye. "You know, I think –" was as far as he got, before they were interrupted.

 

"Excuse me, Mr. Hargrave, is it?"

Eggsy whipped around, only to see Harry hold out his hand towards the mark.

Hargrave' eyes narrowed, as he shook the proffered hand. "I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage," he replied.

"Quite so."

" _Henry_ ," Eggsy said through gritted teeth.

"Darling," Harry replied, raking his gaze over Eggsy.

"I thought you were going to catch up with that old colleague of yours." _What the hell are you doing?_

"Hm." Harry wrapped a hand possessively around Eggsy’s elbow. "I thought you could do with some company."

"Well, as you can no doubt see, Isaac was providing me all the _company_ I could hope for."

Hargrave startled at his own name. "Perhaps I should leave you to it, then?" he asked nervously, shying further away from Eggsy.

"No!" Eggsy replied, too quickly. "Don’t – that is, we’d love it if you stayed, yes, _Henry_?"

"Of course," Harry replied smoothly. He addressed the mark. "I take it my husband's told you about himself, then?"

"Not much," Hargrave replied.

"He's far too modest, then. Edward here is one of the most accomplished individuals I've ever met, not to mention wonderful besides. We're here tonight as a result of his charity work. He's practically saved the world, I daresay, and I'm terribly proud."

Eggsy looked at him sharply.

"He's also brilliant, my Edward, and tenacious, too. I doubt he's ever met an obstacle he couldn't overcome. And I'm sure you've noticed," Harry said, once again looking Eggsy up and down, "how very beautiful he is. I'm truly lucky to call him _mine_." He punctuated the final word by looking Hargrave directly in the eye and pulling Eggsy ever so slightly closer to his body.

Hargrave gulped and took a half step back. Bugger, perhaps he'd laid it on a bit too thick. Eggsy shot him a death glare and pulled his arm free.

"Really, Henry's exaggerating. Perhaps you and I could –"

The mark glanced nervously at Harry and took another step back. "No, no, I think I'll leave you to it. It's been a pleasure, Edward. Henry." With that, Hargrave practically fled.

Eggsy turned to Harry, fury simmering in his eyes, lips twisted in anger. "I'm quite exhausted, Henry, shall we retire?" he bit out.

Bloody buggering fuck.

 

As soon as the door of their hotel room shut behind them, Eggsy rounded on him. "What the hell, Harry?"

"I thought, perhaps, a display of jealousy would renew your mark’s interest."

"Well you got that fucking wrong, didn’t you?"

"I never meant – "

"’Course you didn’t fucking mean it, Harry! Why the fuck would you?" Eggsy snarled.

"This was my mission, Galahad, you weren’t back up; you ain’t cleared for the field! If you’d spent half a second thinking instead of indulging in that savior complex, or whatever the fuck it is, if you'd _trusted_ me, you’d’a realized Hargrave’s fucking terrified of conflict, and now I’m going to have to talk my way back into his pants _and_ convince him you won’t be comin’ after ‘im for it!"

"Eggsy," Harry said, holding out a placating had, "I realize you’re angry-"

"And who gave you the right?" the younger agent continued, as if unaware Harry had spoken. "Who gave you the _fucking_ right to say things like that, to kiss me, and not mean any of it?"

Harry’s brow furrowed. "Eggsy?"

"Just… don’t Haz." Eggsy seemed to deflate, as if all the fight left him all at once. "I know you don’t get it, but you just – you can’t do that to me." He crossed his arms and curled in on himself. "When you – when you _died_ , I was so fucking alone, and I –" He swallowed hard and looked away from the older man. He knew he should stop, before he said something he couldn't take back, but now that he'd begun, he felt unable to prevent himself spilling everything. "– I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was back in training, ‘cept the mirror never broke an’ I was drownin’, all the time. And I tried so fucking hard to be someone you’d be proud of, yeah? But you wasn’t dead, and you didn’t see fit to tell me for a _year_. A fucking year, Harry, an’ I was going out a’ my mind and I _needed_ you and you weren’t there. I know I were never anything more that a debt to be settled to you, but you was so much more to me."

"You were never – " Harry began to say. Eggsy held up a hand to forestall him.

"Just let me finish, I need to – " Part of him wished he could stop, but he felt as though if he didn’t say it all now, he never would. So Eggsy continued. "I– _fuck_ , Harry. I mourned you. I mourned you because I loved you, and I know you don’t feel the same, and you don’t have to, but you can’t kiss me and not mean it. I don’t– I _can’t_. _Fuck_." Eggsy scrubbed a hand across his face.

Harry stepped closer to him.

"Don’t," Eggsy said tiredly. "I need some air." And with that, Eggsy all but ran from the room, missing entirely Harry’s pained expression and out-stretched hand.

 

How he'd managed to bollocks things up this badly, Harry couldn't say. His mind replayed Eggsy's words over and over. _I loved you_ , he'd said. Harry'd never regretted more in his life.

He regretted the year he'd spent, unable to stomach the though of facing Eggsy after the things he'd done. Regretted the time he'd spent wringing his hands while Eggsy thought he was dead; thought he was one more in a long line of people who left him.

He regretted his cool attitude towards Eggsy these first few months back, an attempt to distance himself, if only to spare the young man the burden of someone so broken as he, when truly all he'd wanted was to pull him close and never let go.

He regretted agreeing to take this mission, so blinded by the prospect of being out in the field that he'd been unable to see the many ways pretending to be Eggsy's husband could go wrong.

He regretted kissing Eggsy under false pretenses, and for making him think that anything he said about him was less that the truth.

He regretted whatever had changed _I love you_ to _I loved you_.

He sighed and rubbed at his temple, sitting down heavily on the bed.

 _Are you going to go after him?_ Merlin asked carefully. Only his distinguished thirty-five-year career in espionage prevented him from jumping a foot in the air. He'd forgotten the glasses still perched on his nose.

"No, Merlin. I'll give him his time."

 _You're a bloody idiot, Hart_.

And didn't he know it.

 

Eggsy shoved his hands deep in his pockets. It was bloody cold, and he hadn't had the foresight to grab a coat when he'd stormed out of the room. He stalked along the river, paying little head to where he was.

Fuck Harry Hart. Fuck him for dying, and fuck him for coming back without so much as an apology. Fuck him for letting Eggsy mourn.

For a brief moment, when Harry's lips touched his, Eggsy had felt a blinding spark of hope. Once upon a time, he'd've given anything for a single kiss from Harry Hart; now, he just wished he could forget it ever happened. It was worse, so much worse, to know how it felt, and to know that no other kiss would ever compare, because it wouldn't be from Harry. And it had fucking _hurt_ , hearing everything he'd wanted spill from Harry's mouth, only for it to be about someone who didn't even exist.

So, yeah. Fuck Harry Hart.

And fuck Eggsy for loving him anyway.

 

Eggsy trudged along awhile longer, knowing that he'd have to turn back sooner or later. The night was frigid, and getting colder; every breath he took condensed in front of him. A loose stone skittered past him.

The hairs on the back of Eggsy's neck stood and he whipped around. He felt the sharp sting of a dart imbedding itself in his skin. He had just enough time to see a vaguely familiar face hovering over him before his vision faded to black.

 

The hours grew long, but still, Harry didn't sleep. He resisted the urge to play with his wedding ring; he doubted Eggsy would appreciate any accidental communication. The rings were clever little devices, Harry thought. They were capable of transmitting deliberate taps between wearers via haptic feedback, a useful way to signal one's partner silently, and over a distance. Eggsy had used his earlier, when he'd first drawn his mark into conversation, pointedly tapping the glass both to draw Hargrave's attention, and to signal to Harry success in his initial approach.

Now, though, Harry imagined any reminder of his presence would be entirely unappreciated.

So he sat still, in silence, waiting for his former protégé to return. He had so very much to answer for. Eggsy deserved far better than he. Perhaps it was best that the young man hate him.

The simple fact was, Harry hadn't returned because he'd found what he had been looking for; quite the opposite, really. He'd discovered that his search would never bear fruit. There was no forgiveness, no absolution for his crimes. Harry Hart was a broken man, and nothing would ever change that. So he'd made his way back to Kingsman, where at least he could do a little good in the world, though it was clear he'd never right his wrongs.

He couldn't, or rather, _wouldn't_ , lay his burden at Eggsy's feet. The boy had his entire life ahead of him. There was far more out there for him than Harry Hart.

 

Eggsy's head throbbed. Fucking hell, but this was the worst hangover he'd had in a long while. He groaned and cracked one eye open.

 _Shit_.

Not a hangover. With a suddenly clarity, Eggsy recalled being hit with something and falling to his knees, and seeing, just for a moment, a familiar face. Try as he might, he couldn't place the man.

Allowing that particular line of thought to drift away, Eggsy took stock of himself. For the moment, he was alone, tied to a chair in the most stereotypical villain's basement he'd ever seen, complete with one dusty lightbulb hanging from the ceiling above him. Somewhere off to his right, he heard the steady drip of water.

He still had his shoes, but both ankles were zip-tied to his chair. His glasses were gone, as were his cufflinks, signet ring, lighter and lapel pin.

Fucking hell, whoever his captors were, they knew more than they were supposed to.

He still had his wedding band, though, which was something. He couldn't use it to fight his way out, but he could let Kingsman know something was wrong. That in mind, he began tapping out a steady SOS in Morse code.

Before long, a man walked into the room, and everything clicked into place. It was the bloke from the party, the one Eggsy had briefly made eye contact with. If he was the betting sort, he'd go all in on it being the old target Harry'd been trying to avoid. _Guess that snog weren't for much_ , Eggsy thought humorlessly.

"Right then," the man said, "let's begin, shall we?" His accent was difficult to place, something eastern European, perhaps, with English vowels and American consonants.

Eggsy slipped his features into a scared expression. "W-who are you?" he asked, playing up his posh accent. "Where am I? I demand to speak to the British Embassy!" He laced his voice with a false-sounding bravado, sounding every inch the spoiled aristocrat he was meant to be playing.

"Come off it, lad," another man said, stepping from the shadows. "We know you ain't who you say you are. Make this easy for everyone."

That accent, Eggsy was intimately familiar with. This man was the hired muscle, it seemed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Eggsy replied imperiously, not slipping out of character for a moment. He stopped tapping his ring, and hoped desperately that Harry'd received the message.

The first mad sighed dramatically and picked up a set of pliers. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. What do you think?" he asked. "Teeth or nails first?"

 

As soon as the signal came through, Harry was out the door, sprinting down the hallway. "Merlin," he said sharply, "I need a fix on Tristan's location _now_."

_He's… bloody hell, his signal's dead. Give me a moment, I'll give you his last point of transmission._

"Quickly, Merlin."

 _It's not far, I'm sending directions to your glasses,_ Merlin replied.

"He sent a distress call through his ring. Can you track it?"

_Negative, Galahad. It cut out at the same point as his glasses. Must be some kind of interference. I'll work on it._

Harry chose not to answer. He exited the hotel, paying little heed to those who still drifted about the lobby. He jumped into the first car he saw, and jammed his Kingsman adaptive key into ignition. Within moments, he was off, tearing down the streets with reckless abandon.

 

"I don't _fucking_ know what you're on about," Eggsy yelled, having slipped back into his native accent around the same time as the ballpeen hammer smashed into his knee cap.

"Tell me," his captor said, "about the man you were with."

"Henry?" Eggsy asked, a desperation all to easy to fake seeping into his voice. "'E's my husband, I met 'im at an art gallery in London. He's property investor. Is this about money? I can get you money."

"You see, when we last met, his name was Michael, and he was an American with a penchant for starting bar fights and costing me tens of millions of Euros. So please, don’t patronize me. Tell me what you know about him."

Eggsy snarled. "I don't know nothing about it," he spat out.

"Very well." The man sighed and took a step back. "Condor. The water, if you will?"

Eggsy grimaced. Harry needed to hurry the fuck up.

 

Harry struck with brutal elegance. It was barely three minutes before every guard in the vicinity was down.

 _Careful, Galahad. I have no idea what you're getting yourself into,_ Merlin warned.

"Eggsy's here," Harry replied, as if that answered everything. And perhaps it did.

Merlin sighed. _Try the corridor on your left – most of the guards came from there._

Harry ran, taking out the few individuals he encountered with little discretion. From down the hall he heard a scream. _Eggsy_.

Harry spared no thought to mercy. The ex-target was marked for death as soon as Harry laid eyes on him; Eggsy's torturer, even sooner. He shot the target in the knee, and then the chest. The other man tried to fight back, but he was ruthlessly outmatched. Harry snapped his neck, regretting only that his death could not have been more drawn out. He whirled around, dripping with animalistic fury, in search of his next opponent.

Instead, he caught sight of Eggsy, face already mottled with bruises, staring at him with some mixture of awe and fear. "Harry," he whispered, voice rough.

The older agent quickly strode over and dropped to Eggsy's side. He cut the restraints that bound him, and caught him when he pitched forward.

"I didn't give them nothing," Eggsy said hoarsely. "I swear it, Haz, I wouldn't do that to you."

Harry ran a hand up and down Eggsy's back. "I know, dear boy, I know you wouldn't."

A choked sob escaped the younger agent.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, "this was my fault."

Eggsy drew back. "It wasn't," he choked out. "I knew the risks when I signed on for this. It ain't your fault."

"There's a great deal I need to apologize to you for," Harry said, unable to stop himself from running a finger down Eggsy's cheek.

Eggsy's eyes drifted closed. "Damn right," he mumbled, "but get us the fuck outta here first, yeah?"

 

Eggsy woke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor and a warm pressure on his hand. One of those things was exceedingly unusual. He forced his eyes open, and was immediately grateful for the room's dim lighting.

Fast asleep and gripping his hand tightly was one Harry Hart.

"Haz," Eggsy rasped. His throat felt like sandpaper.

The older agent stirred. He slowly sat up. "Eggsy," he murmured, "I should call the nurse."

"Wait," the younger man replied quickly. "Not yet?"

"As you wish."

"Thanks for the rescue, Haz. A regular knight in shinning armour, you are." Eggsy squeezed his hand.

"You never need to thank me, dear boy," Harry replied, smiling tiredly.

"All those things I said—"

"You needn't apologize, either."

"Wasn't gonna," Eggsy chuckled. "Was gonna say I meant it. You fucking hurt me, Harry." Shame shone in the older man's eyes. "But," Eggsy continued, "I love you, for better or worse I still do. I know you don’t feel the same, but I can’t keep pretending I ain't arse over tits for you, Harry. Life's too damn short."

Hope shot through Harry like a pulse of electricity. "You-" He stopped, at a loss for words.

"It don't gotta change nothing," Eggsy said, looking away.

Harry caught Eggsy's chin and gently turned it back towards him."You deserve so much better than me," he whispered.

Eggsy's eyes widened fractionally. "Don' want better. I want you."

"There are many things I need to say to you, darling, and most important is this: I love you, and I'm sorry that I ever made you feel as though you were anything less than everything to me. You deserve far more than I can ever give you." Harry held his gaze earnestly.

Eggsy tugged him forward. "You daft git," he said softly. "Kiss me."

**Author's Note:**

> Happy KSS to @Knowmefirst ! I really hope you enjoyed this! This was my first time participating in any fic writing event, and I had a great time :) Thanks to Knowmefirst for the great prompts (of which I _may_ have used more than one) and to the mods for putting all this together!


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